10 Minutes of Worldwide Doom
by Heart of a Music Box
Summary: Zim's PAK is gone. The Tallest and the armada are taking over Earth. He only has ten minutes to reminisce; who is occupying his thoughts?


'Why is everyone screaming and running into me? Seriously, I wish they'd get out of my way. It's hard to walk as it is. Good Irk, I'm exhausted. I want to sleep…ha, that's strange. I haven't slept since I was born. Why do I want to sleep now? I'm really tired…where was I born? Where am I now? Oh yeah, I'm on Earth. Stupid, smelly planet, with its stupid worm-baby-dirt-monsters that stole my PAK…and that infernal Dib-thing…'

A blurry image filled his eyes. An image of a pale human with peculiar scythe-shaped hair and a ratty old trench coat. The Dib. The foolish young paranormal psychotic. His archenemy. The only thing that made Earth interesting.

'Hehehe, the Dib…I wonder where he is. Did he already run past screaming? No…I know his voice. I'dve heard him. Infernal dirt-weasel…."

A particularly large human barreled into the struggling Irken, sending him rolling sideways into an alley. Now away from the riot-esque crowd, he could hear explosions in the sky, as well as on the ground. A voice was barking orders through some large microphone-device. It was a voice he knew too well.

'My Tallest…here? So the explosions…the armada is here…I win. Haha…Dib-stink, I win.'

He tried to lift his body from the ground, and immediately fell back down, too weak to even support himself for a few seconds.

Seconds…

'How much time…my PAK's been gone for…I can't remember…I sent GIR after it….didn't I? I don't remember…my memory component is going…Dib-thingy…"

Funny. It was funny how his thoughts-what was left of them-kept wandering back to that diabolically annoying Earthanoid. Shouldn't be thinking more along the lines of his Tallest? GIR? Skoodge? Maybe even Tak; at least she was his species. No, it was always Dib.

'Stupid human-filth…thingy…with his gargantuan head…stupid glass things on his eyes…stupid Dib…get out of my brain, I want to sleep…'

Surely he couldn't have much time left now; it felt like hours since the stupid Earth-child had stolen his PAK. What had his name been? Turk? Tuck? Toqu? Torque?

'Ah yes, the meaty Torque-monster…he thought my PAK was a…something-thingy…pack-back, was it? Something to carry items for skool in…to think I've been foiled…killed…by such a dim-witted being.'

His vision was completely gone now, and his hearing was leaving him at a very fast pace. Everything, the explosions, the gunfire, the screams, the orders being shouted from both sides, was garbled. It all was blending together into one big, irritating noise.

'Guuugh…computer…silence that galling racket…I want my rest….computer!'

Yet the sound did not cease.

'My own computer…dares to disobey…malfunctioning….no…GIR must've tampered…no….am I not inside my base? Yes…I must be inside…but why does my base…smell like muffins and…the rat-dumpster-monsters?'

Everything was truly starting to silence now. The faint, muffled booms of the bombs and falling buildings could still be detected, but he more felt them then heard them. His senses were dying. His antennae lay limp across his head and on the ground. His eyes, still wide open, were completely useless to him. His feeble arms and legs were nothing but dead weight. His vital organs were slowing and copping out, and his skeleton was weakening, with bits of it beginning to crumble under the weight of his organs.

'This is death…hm? GIR will go to…Mexico….I suppose….for his tacos…before the armada destroys….Dib-thing…will fight the….Tallest and die….as will many….humans are stupid….Irk, I'm tired…'

He drew in another breath, letting it fill his entire body before he slowly exhaled. He could feel footsteps breaking from the rushing crowd, coming toward him.

'Someone will….be very….happy today….despite….Armageddon…they found an….alien's corpse….'

As the final wisps of air escaped his lips, he could've sworn he felt two abrupt clicks in his back, and just before he slipped into unconsciousness, a final sound wormed its way into his skull; a defeated and almost pained screech.

'Dib….thing…'


End file.
